𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰!
act one, chapter nine
" 𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 "

𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕

          𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑶 𝑰𝑺 𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑨𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑪𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑺. From what he can remember, the last and only time a professor has ever excused him from a lesson was in his fifth year when he was required to sit through a careers meeting just for him to tell Snape that he'll probably just end up doing whatever his dad does. And even then, everyone is entitled to go to at least one careers meeting so, case in point: he is never excused from a lesson. Since then, there's been nothing. 

          Until now.

          "So, Theodore."

          Theo has to stare down at Professor Flitwick and he is struggling to find a way to do it without making it awkward for himself and for the teacher. His neck and upper back hurt even after a few seconds and Theo can't tell whether the pain is worth missing out on a few minutes of History of Magic with Professor dull-as-anything Binns or not.

          Then again, he doesn't even know if it will be a few minutes or a few seconds or a good hour. Because he has no idea what Professor Flitwick could possibly want with him first period on this not-so-fine morning (because Theodore's timetable puts him in History of Magic with Binns).

          "Yes, sir?"

          The Charms professor brought his hands together slowly in a clasp and Theodore was suddenly very nervous about the implications of this all. "I was rather impressed with your audition but I noticed this is the first year that you have shown an interest in the play. Why is that?"

          Probably because for the last couple of years the Hogwarts school play has been the butt of Theodore and his friends' jokes shamelessly. He has never shown an interest, sir, because the only interest he has regarding said show is that of ridiculing purposes and a way to beat his best friend in a childish bet. 

          And, I think you'll find, sir, I still show no interest in the play.

          Theo of course knew he couldn't say all that and stammered out, "Just never felt," stupid enough to audition? No, what's the word for 'I don't give a shit'? ". . . ready, I suppose, sir."

          A grin spread across Flitwick's face as he gave a haughty chuckle. "Ah, that explains it," he replied. "Well, we all come along eventually." Theodore continued to smile awkwardly down at the professor, a nervous laugh echoing out into the empty and vast corridor. Theodore had yet to "come along" as Flitwick had just phrased it. But the professor didn't need to know that. At least not right now.

          "Anyway, when it comes to deliberating who to choose for the lead, I must take into account the commitment the candidate would put into the show as a whole and so I wanted to pull you aside to see how committed you were prepared to be?"

          How about, not committed at all? "Well," go on, Theodore, tell the poor man that you auditioned for his play because your friends bet you you wouldn't. Because this is all just one big joke to them, to you. "I . . . er."

          Flitwick must have picked up on Theodore's unease at answering because he kept on talking in an attempt to aid a response. "Because, just between you and me," he shuffled a little closer towards the student, beckoning the boy to get closer. Theodore took a small step forward, gauchely leaning down a little to hear the professor's hushed words, "you, young man, are a prominent contender for the role of Romeo."

          Prominent contender? Romeo? Oh, dear.

          Theo couldn't help but let out a laugh, which he then tried to save by morphing it into an apprehensive chuckle, rubbing the small of his neck with his hand. The teacher before him wore a look of mischief as if Theo would be just as eager at this news. "Oh sir, I couldn't possibly be."

          Seriously, professor, he couldn't possibly be.

          "Well, you are," Professor Flitwick said cheerfully. At least this information pleased one of them. "And you should be proud of that alone." He gave a curt nod and Theo picked up on the joy radiating off of him. "So, commitment? Where do we stand on that?"

          There was a smile hiding behind his moustache and it was threatening to unveil itself. Theodore wouldn't know what to do if that happened. It was rare that Theo saw a look of pure pride on someone's face. His parents weren't often proud of him ─ if at all ─ and his grades had never been nearly good enough to earn him slaps on the back and grins from his professors. The only people he ever seemed to please were his housemates whenever they won a Quidditch match. And that was nothing personal; just a few teens with feelings of heightened patriotism after a big game.

          With the little experience he had with it, Theo was sure the look in Flitwick's eyes was pride. Happiness that someone he hadn't expected had proved to be a decent actor, a hidden talent, someone with potential the Charms professor was eager to unearth.

          And it made Theo happy.

          Yuck, don't let anyone know about this.

          The words flew out of his mouth before he even could fully compute them. "As committed as you need me to be sir!"

          What was he doing?

          "Wonderful! I shall keep that in mind, for certain." Professor Flitwick clapped his hands together, his smile reaching the edges of his face. Pure bliss. From the sheer delight, Theo's answer seemed to have brought this professor, "prominent contender" seemed like an understatement.

          Before Theo could deliberate on the matter any more, stopping the endless train of questions that were flying off in his muddled head, Flitwick took a step away from the door to the classroom. "Now, back to class, off you go."

          The boy spared the man a wobbly smile, letting out a shaky breath as he said with a quick wave and short nod. "Thanks, professor."

          Theo walked back into the classroom he had just left like a robot, a machine on auto-pilot. His eyes were unblinking, his arms still at his sides. He slid into his seat still staring into an abyss. It wasn't until Draco shoved him in his side a second later that the world caught up with him again.

          It wasn't just that he had surprised himself ─ and was sort of embarrassed at that ─ that he was a weirdly good actor but also that he auditioned as a joke. A bet, a way for him to score some extra cash. It wasn't supposed to be something that had consequences! How on earth was he supposed to choose between telling his friends that he may have impressed the professor who ran the drama club or turning down a role from a man that genuinely seemed pleased with his abilities and that he had put himself out there?

           Jokes are supposed to be funny. Theodore is not laughing.

          While Theo suffered through a jarring History of Magic lesson, his mind foggy and scrambled, elsewhere, someone else, for once in her short life, wasn't thinking about Shakespeare plays.

          Wyatt Buckley had a free period in the morning just before break and since the cast list was looming near like a haunting cloud threatening to rain all over her perfect final-year parade, or (hopefully!) readying to move aside for the sun to shine down on her, she felt as though she should use the time wisely and distract herself in the library with some studying to pass the time.

          The next day couldn't come any faster. But then again, the news was so substantial that she almost wanted to delay it a little longer. The library was good for both passing the time and also disappearing, undisturbed, in a place where time stood still.

          The corridor was quiet on her way there, free from the younger students whose eyes were falling closed in classrooms nearby. The morning sun managed to peer in through the windows despite it being accompanied by a few clouds. 

          Her bag weighed heavy on her shoulder and Wyatt became distracted by the sound of her footsteps. She hardly registered the bell ringing loud in her ears. She was too focused on the echo of her heels slapping against the tiles beneath her. She became too distracted, in fact, to notice the boy heading in her direction among the newly arrived throng of students.

          Theodore's strides were larger than hers, filled with purpose, disrupting the tranquil lull the castle held the mornings she had no lessons. His chest rose and fell as the two of them got closer. They were just about to walk past each other, without so much as a glance in the other's direction, just two students going about their days, when Theodore closed the gap between them and latched onto her arm with a forceful grip.

          "What the-"

          Wyatt hardly got the chance to process the hand clutching her arm painfully tight because the next second she was plunged into darkness. And just as fast as her eyes were met with black, she heard the click of a string light and her surroundings became lit with colour again.

          It took her a second to adjust to the newfound seemingly blinding lights, but once she had, she wished the shadows to come back.

          "Does kidnapping work on other girls then, you psycho?"

          Theodore towered over her, his hand still grasped onto her arm. He had a sort of panicked look in his eyes despite her being the one that was just pulled into a tight broom cupboard and not him.

          It really was a tiny room. Shelves lined on the walls, cluttered with various objects and sprinkled with dust. She could see the specks circling around in the air around the single light above her from where she already had to crane her neck to look up at the boy in front of her.

          He let out a little huff as if, although he expected it, her smart-ass attitude annoyed him. He clearly wasn't in the mood for her antics, regardless of how they usually entertained him. And he understood being dragged into a dark closet wasn't the most agreeable of situations when she clearly had somewhere to be but Theo felt as though this was the only way he could get her alone without her friends lurking by and without her getting away easily.

          "For your information, Wyatt," he said, sharply letting go of her arm where she then folded them across her chest, "when it comes to me, anything works on other girls."

          Wyatt knew first-hand of Theodore Nott's playboy tendencies, but she wouldn't let him have that one. "You like that thought don't you, Theodore?"

          "Not a thought," he replied casually. "I am, after all, irresistible."

          "I reckon I wasn't dragged in here for you to tell me your hopes and dreams, although I wouldn't put it past you," she sighed, "so why am I really here?"

          Theodore's smirk slipped off his face when the matter at hand returned to the front of his mind. "We have a problem."

          "Problem?" She repeated. What kind of problem of his could possibly involve her? They lived two different lives.

          "What, you get rejected or something? Fell off your broom? Bad hair day?" Wyatt listed off a series of things she assumed were problems of the utmost importance in the eyes of Theodore Nott, before then slowly lifting her eye line to the scraggly hair on top of his head. She grimaced at the mess of it. "Yeah, it's probably that."

          Theo hastily ran a hand through his hair, shaking his fingers through the strands frantically, suddenly insecure that it might look bad before realising she was most likely just trying to mock him. "Piss off, would you? I'm being serious."

          "Didn't know you had it in you."

          "Just so you know, I would so walk out right now if this wasn't a matter of urgency."

          "Oh Theodore, maybe there's been a misunderstanding," she cooed sarcastically, "I don't actually like Quidditch all that much."

          He stared down at her unimpressed. "Do you seriously think Quidditch is the only thing I care enough about to deem something going wrong with it as a matter of urgency?"

          "Quidditch and yourself, yeah," she rectified with a sickly-sweet smile. 

          Theo's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he gathered his nerve. With a clenched jaw, he delivered the news he supposedly kidnapped her for. "Flitwick pulled me aside earlier."

          "Failing Charms still?"

          His eyes flew open wide and he found himself leaning forward while trying to grasp how she would ever know about his slight problems with Charms class last year. "Still?" He repeated incredulously. "How do you know about that?"

          Wyatt shrugged, feeling totally unbothered about her involvement in Theodore Nott's class struggles. "He asked me to tutor you. I said no."

          The realisation hit him faster than he could prepare for. That was the only reason he didn't go completely red in the face with the rage he felt for the girl in very close proximity to him. "Fuck me, it was you," he said, before feeling small and speaking sheepishly at the thought of last year's Charms endeavours. "I had to have private sessions with Flitwick because he said he couldn't find a peer tutor for me."

          Wyatt remained completely unaffected by this news. "Oops."

          Theo felt his jaw harden once more as he said, "We will be coming back to that by the way," with a finger pointed at her nose, "but first, Flitwick came to me asking how committed I was prepared to be to the play."

          "You told him not at all right?"

          He became acutely aware of how loud the silence that followed her question was.

          Her stare became sharper and sharper as his lips remained sealed together. As he remained towering over her, his head the same level as a shelf quite the distance taller than the one she reached, Theo felt very puny once more.

          "Not exactly," he mumbled eventually.

          He could have sworn her words could have cut his skin. "Theodore Nott, please tell me you told him you only auditioned for a bet."

          "I told him I'd have to see," Theo hurriedly jumped to his defence (a lie, actually!) before shrinking down again, "but he just told me that I'm still a prominent contender."

          "For the lead?"

          "I assume so." No, Theodore, you know so.

          Wyatt couldn't quite fathom what she was hearing. Sure, he was alright in the auditions but there were other good candidates for the role. There had to be. But not only did she not comprehend this fact alone, but also the fact that, before her very own eyes, Theodore Nott was not smiling with disgusting self-satisfaction like he usually did, nor did he tell her this news with ease even after Flitwick had complimented his abilities. He was . . . meek.

          Wyatt couldn't find the words. She reckons that if she had more room to move (and to breathe) her arms would be flailing about in a desperate attempt to convey just how she was feeling in the moment. "So tell him you don't want to fucking do it then, Theodore!"

          "But the look on his face seemed like he was really proud of me," he replied, once again with a shy expression and a muted voice that Wyatt wouldn't have predicted coming from him of all people.

          "So, what?" She scoffed, finding this all a very twisted version of amusing. "Did you drag me in here to gloat or something?"

          "No, I wanted to warn you."

          "You're already ruining this for me, Nott," she said, suddenly feeling rather claustrophobic and wondering why she let him keep her in here for as long as he had already. "There is nothing you can do to make this better."

          "Well, you can't say I didn't try."

           "In a perfect world, Theodore, I would never have to speak to you again."

          "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

          In the dim glow of the cupboard, she could see his chin stiffen and his eyes glint. "What, like how you pretend everyone at this school likes you?"

           He cocked his head to one side, in what seemed like a teasing manner but Wyatt could sense the curiosity behind it too. "Including you?"

           "I would hope by this point," she said bored, "I have made my feelings towards you very clear."

          Obviously, Theodore Nott was well aware Wyatt Buckley wasn't his biggest fan and yet he loved nothing less than to taunt her as though she was. "I think you should aim to be a better actor then, Buckley."

           She knew what he was implying ─ that if she hated him so much, she should start acting like it, something she would consider to be one of her few talents. But if he bit her, she would always bite back. "You must lead a sadder life than I thought if you have to lie to yourself that you have friends."

          "I have lots of friends," Theodore awkwardly shrugged with the lack of room he had. The back of his arm grazed the bristle edges of the shelf behind him. She could see the conviction in his statement fade away with every ticking second.

          He ensured his confidence would bounce back when his eyes found hers again in a piercing, yet playful gaze. "I know you probably don't know what that's like but I do."

          It was bad enough that she had let him trap her in a tiny room when anywhere else in the castle would have sufficed, but to make matters worse, she was now tolerating him shit-talking her while her face was a mere few inches away from his. Well, not anymore.

          Wyatt fumbled around the various cloaks and random objects hanging from the door until she found a knob and twisted it, turning back to look at him as she said, "And will they still be your friends after you take the lead in a play you seem to be so set on being in?"

          Theo watched helplessly as Wyatt pushed the door open ─ gasping for the fresh air once far from the cupboard ─ and she wasn't sure whether it was her swift exit that left him speechless or that her question had genuinely stumped him, but Theo merely stuttered out: "I-"

          Having started walking away from him and the closest he had used against her, Wyatt made sure there was considerable distance between them as she turned on the spot and said to him, "That's what I thought, Theodore. Just stay out of this and do what you do best."

          Theo had lost a little bit of his snarky confidence. He found that happened around Wyatt. Because she was so unapologetically true to herself that even some of his comments went unresponsive.

          With one eyebrow cocked, leaning back slightly as if sceptical as to what her reaction would be to him trying to lighten the mood once more with his vain personality and witty remarks, Theodore held his hands out in question when he asked, "Be flawlessly attractive?"

          She didn't have time for his jokes. In fact, she had planned to go the whole day without interacting with him at all until he had made that decision for her when he dragged her against her will into a dark closet and told her her worst nightmare.

          "Quidditch and popularity," she deadpanned.

          Theodore was relentless when it came to aggravating Wyatt Buckley. "So you admit I'm good at Quidditch and have an abundance of friends?" He asked with an amused scoff. "I am winning today."

          A tense silence fell over them ─ Theodore finding this all rather funny (whilst also being anxious that this was all too real and that Wyatt was very serious in her stance in this dilemma he found himself in) and Wyatt, waiting for this boy to realize that she didn't like him nearly enough to go along with his quips.

          The cast list came out tomorrow and Wyatt was not going to let this imbecile ruin it for her, lead or not.

          "Stay in your lane, Nott," she said. "Don't drag the people that care about this show into your idiocy."

          Wyatt stalked away a second later, going the way she had planned to a while ago before Theodore stopped her in her tracks. She left him gawking in the corridor, the boy she left behind still shocked more than anyone to find himself in a predicament involving the Hogwarts play.

¨. ༢ ͎۪۫ ༊*·˚